Tag: Humor

‘…this is proof that Autobots were not assembled on Cybertron by hurricanes or any other means envisioned by Darwin, and were Intelligently Designed. That makes the Transformers series a compelling parable for ID, and I expect several of this year’s Republican presidential candidates to recommend the movies on that basis alone.’

The advocates of ID, who are arguing that their belief should be included in science classes in Texas, Tennessee and other states, say that if a living organism has a design that cannot be explained by the theory of natural selection, it is proof of an Intelligent Designer. If you consider a Camaro, for example, wouldn’t it obviously have had a Designer? Could its parts have been assembled by a hurricane (or a trillion hurricanes) blowing through a junkyard?

Certainly not. Therefore, this is proof that Autobots were not assembled on Cybertron by hurricanes or any other means envisioned by Darwin, and were Intelligently Designed. That makes the Transformers series a compelling parable for ID, and I expect several of this year’s Republican presidential candidates to recommend the movies on that basis alone.

Roger Ebert, making the case for Intelligent Design…at least within the universe of the Transformers.

This was far funnier than I expected it to be. I only wish it didn’t have the big “Funny or Die” banner and the intro, so that it was less immediately obvious that it was a joke. They should have saved that for the end, and started with a cold open.

I very rarely remember my dreams, and usually when I do, it’s just a few very vague bits that fade almost immediately upon waking up. Last night, though, I had something of a doozy.

I very rarely remember my dreams, and usually when I do, it’s just a few very vague bits that fade almost immediately upon waking up.

Last night, though, I had something of a doozy. I was living with my parents and brother in this apartment, and we were all a good decade or two younger…or at least, Kevin and I were in our teens, I think. I had an idea for a photo I wanted to try to shoot, but Kevin was being a pain-in-the-butt little brother, and was hogging all the photo equipment. I couldn’t get any of the pieces I needed for what I wanted to do, and I knew that he was just doing it to get under my skin. I was getting madder and madder, until I burst out, “Find something else to do…!”

And blinked, and realized that I was awake, and I’d actually just said that. Out loud. Not only had I talked in my sleep, but I’d been loud enough that I’d managed to wake myself up doing it. Even better, with the peculiar logic of the half-awake, I was then even more ticked off at Kevin for making me wake myself up.

Meanwhile, poor Prairie, who’d apparently already been having a bit of a nightmare, had just been awakened at the scariest part of her dream by her boyfriend yelling at her to “find something else to do,” for no apparent reason whatsoever, and was lying in bed half-awake, confused, and petrified, trying to figure out what was going on.

Of course, neither of us found out about what was going on with the other until this morning, as I had spent the next half hour calming down and drifting back to sleep, and my poor girl spent the next hour and a half doing the same thing.

It’s a one-word idea: Kilts. Think about it — if you’re a male, and you want to bollix-up the nonsensical airport security-industrial complex, one way to do so would be to wear a kilt. If nothing else, this will cause TSA employees to throw up their hands in disgust. If you want to go the extra extra mile, I suggest commando-style kilt-wearing. While it is probably illegal to fly without pants, I can’t imagine that it’s illegal to fly without underpants. I If you are Scottish, or part Scottish, or know someone who is Scottish, or eat Scottish salmon, or enjoy Scotch, or have a vestigial affection for “Braveheart” despite Mel Gibson, you can plausibly claim some sort of multicultural diversity privilege — the term “True Scotsman” refers to soldiers who honor their tradition and heritage by wearing kilts without drawers underneath.

For the record, I always fly wearing a Utilikilt, and as with any time I wear a kilt, unless there’s some situation that demands otherwise, I generally do go commando. Hey, it’s comfortable, and under normal circumstances, there’s little to no likelihood that anyone’s going to be seeing anything they don’t want to. It’s never been a problem — quite the opposite, in fact, I usually just breeze through the metal detectors.

This past summer, though, as I was flying up to Anchorage from Seattle, I was pulled aside after going through the metal detector for a patdown. I was surprised, especially when the TSA screener told be that I was pulled aside specifically because I wore the kilt. My best guess is that because they can’t eyeball the shape of your upper legs as easily as when wearing pants, it’s marginally more likely that I could have something dangerous but non-metallic strapped to my upper/inner thigh. If that was the reasoning (they didn’t say), it does make me wonder if they regularly pull women wearing skirts aside for the extra pat-down, or if they reserve that treatment for men in skirts. Obviously, weirdos like us are far more likely to be dangerous.

The pat-down itself was about what I’d expect of a normal pat-down — thorough enough, with a quick run of the hands up my legs and under the kilt, but not so thorough that the screener knew whether or not I was commando. No fondling was involved, though there was a cursory brush-down of the front of the kilt that jostled things around a bit. A bit surprising, but at the time, I just shrugged it off.

No more of that, though. While I’m not flying anytime soon, if all of this ridiculousness is still going on when I do have to fly somewhere, I’m definitely opting out, and they just better do their jobs. If they’re determined to sexually assault me, then I’m at least going to get my money’s worth!